


Good Cop Bad Cop

by Larkrane



Category: Wynonna Earp (TV)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-12
Updated: 2017-07-20
Packaged: 2018-08-08 06:34:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,895
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7746862
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Larkrane/pseuds/Larkrane
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stuck in Purgatory with the Earp Curse hanging over her, Wynonna's beginning to crack. Isolating herself up at the homestead, she's only getting worse.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is going to be a story focusing mainly on Wynonna, as well as the relationship she develops with Nicole.  
> It's picking up after the finale, and Nicole and Waverly are still together for now.  
> This is also in no way a cop AU. The title is just what I call them in my head (they are technically both cops) and in fact, the title may change.

The homestead is empty now. Sunrise to sunset, Wynonna is left to her own devices, wandering through rooms lovingly decorated by Waverly. But they aren’t to her taste, and between those quiet, lifeless walls, everything her sister added to make the place feel homey just feels fake and out of place. 

Even Doc barely shows up on the property anymore. Along with driving, he’s finally figuring out the rest of modern society, including how to start making his own way in it. He told her about his small apartment, proud in his subtle way, eyes twinkling. She hadn’t yet gone to see it. She couldn’t. 

Lonely as she was, she found herself inviting her good friends Jack and Johnnie over quite a bit. Bottles were slowly overtaking the house, which was, she supposed, her own kind of decoration. Tonight she was working her way through another, sitting on her couch-bed hunched over the coffee table and staring at the blank page of a notebook. 

Waverly’s absence had brought with it an absence of reasoning from her life that she hadn’t expected. Hadn’t she been surviving on her own for years? But hunting down revenants, even with a highly trained military man and the quickest draw in the west, was much more of a struggle without her kid sister. They were lost. 

Hands shaking, she reached for the bottle. 

Waverly had accrued boxes of research on the curse. Waverly had pictures and maps and town history (and languages?) memorized. Waverly was good with that shotgun. Wynonna had come home, and Waverly had _surprised_ her. And what was Wynonna? The same. Worse, even. Alcoholic, rash, leaving behind a trail of successful hookups and failed relationships. Certifiable… 

Her cell phone buzzing against the wood in front of her made her choke on her hooch. Hacking, she dropped the bottle on the floor, scrambling to keep it upright while reaching for her phone. 

: Just got in, safe and sound : ) :

Yeah, she had come home and Waverly had surprised her. From a wholesome, small town girl settling for Champ and a waitress job, to a fledgling demon hunter who’s apparently not so straight. So what’s happening now, it’s good. This is a good thing. Wynonna had been all over the country, all over Europe. Waverly had barely left Purgatory, and she had almost died twice now without ever getting to really meet herself. Let alone anyone else outside her home town. 

So even though Wynonna can’t turn around and find a walking explanation as to which revenant is which grainy newspaper clipping from a century ago, it’s for the best. For a little while. 

: This is the part where you tell me you’re still OK, you know. : 

: I’m fine, just trying to do a little homework. : 

: If you need help, you know I’ll come right home. : 

: We’re managing. 

: If you need ANYTHING I’ll come. : 

: I’m managing. Promise. : 

She knew she was being distant. She could be bitter about the curse, bitter about her life, but no matter what she couldn’t let herself take it out on Waverly. 

: So you having fun in the world out there? : 

The girl had undergone an exorcism, and still she was the one to check in first, to worry first. Wynonna really was a royal screw up. Not even good at being a big sister. She reclaimed her bottle from the floor and took a swig. 

: Yes!!! Good God Wynonna, I’ve been to the same club three nights in a row and haven’t seen the same face twice! : 

That drew a smile out of her. Waverly had never been to a city before, and as fun as her road trip sounded, SanFran was blowing her mind. Every night Wynonna got at least a handful of touristy pictures texted to her. Waves was out visiting landmarks, talking to strangers, buying cheesy hats. Everything Wynonna had been dead set against doing wherever she went. 

Always so bitter. Had moped her way across two continents. Another swig. 

They shot a few more texts. Waverly was tired from another big day out, and Wynonna, though she didn’t allude to it, was drinking herself into a stupor. 

But it was good. Waverly deserved this. She deserved a break from a curse that should never have been her burden to bear. And she deserved the chance that had been robbed of her up until now to see the world. Or even just one city. 

: Remember, Nonna. I’ll come home ASAP if you need anything. I mean it. : 

It was true; Wynonna came home worse than she was before she left. But she could at least practice being a good big sister. 

: GOODNIGHT, Wave. : 

She wouldn’t anchor that girl down. 

/////

“I don’t _care_ what your boss wants!” 

“I _know._ ” 

“I’m breaking this curse.” 

Dolls leaned back against his desk. He looked at her like he was being patient with a child. Like she had no right to be mad. Like she _needed_ him—

“You’re not going to have much luck by yourself—“

Her laughter cut him off. So predictable. But he was looking at her, still unimpressed. He trusted her, she supposed. But nobody ever believed in her. And at the end of the day, nobody would let her make her own choices. 

“Why don’t you get it?” She said, a tired smile under wild eyes. 

He looked on, that same passive face. 

“It’s _my_ curse. This is _my_ town. _My_ life.” 

He was unfazed. 

“You’re a _visitor!_ ” 

His eyes rolled up to the ceiling and stayed there. 

“You, and your job, and your boss can all get fucked. Good and fucked. Because without me, and without this gun, you’ve all got nothing. But without you? Without _you._ ” 

He finally looked back to her, the barest hint that he cared hidden in the lines of his face. 

Without you at least I could be sure the job gets done. I’m not taking any risks. I’m not leaving any of them alive.” 

He opened his mouth, ready to explain the necessity of ‘research’ again. Ready to decide for her. 

“I don’t care, Dolls. Take your guns, pack up if you want. I’m breaking this curse. For whatever future my family might have left. Even if we’re the last, it’s for Waverly. And it’s for the generations behind me who had to suffer.” 

Her father falling to his knees flashed through her like lightning. 

“It’s for Willa…” 

Dolls tensed up like he always did whenever her sister was mentioned. He had shot her. They both knew it had left the rift between them unlikely to be repaired. He was cold, and calculating, and given the chance he would step icily across her wounds. Where she was jagged and worn he would not be careful. Not if it meant a risk. 

A risk. Never risk the mission, never risk the secret, never risk the public. But Wynonna? She was forfeit. Risk her stability, risk her heart. She was cursed, after all. Wynonna Earp was forfeit. 

“…It’s for me.” She straightened up and left without looking at him. 

The speech was so good you could hardly tell she was drunk, she congratulated herself internally; on the verge of another breakdown. 

/////

She pulled the trigger and the murky green glass of a cheap beer bottle burst cleanly several yards away. The sun beat down on her where she sat against the back of the house, hoping a little target practice would calm her mind. Another shot and a coffee can flew into the air. 

“Damn, I’m good.” A pop, and more glass went flying. 

“It’s in the blood…” A half eaten apple burst to bits. “And it’s in the gun…” A phone book toppled. “And it’s nobody’s business but mine…” A bull’s eye on an old dart board. 

If she muttered to herself enough, she might not start crying. If she heard a voice, even her own, it might be just comforting enough that the knot in her stomach wouldn’t completely pull her inside out. 

“I can send all of them back down, under ground…” another pull of the trigger. “I can find them all, even if Black Badge…” One of the Johnnie bottles blew. “Even if some go missing, I’ll find them.” She sat pensive, her arm frozen at the draw, eye locked on a target. 

“I can,” she said quietly, and for a moment she almost heard the ghost of her mamma’s voice within her own, soft and soothing… and sad. Her eyes teared up but stayed on her mark. “It’s my job.” She whispered. 

“I’m Wynonna,” Bang, “Earp,” Bang. 

Wiping a stray tear from her face she finally lowered her gun, and only then did she hear tires crunching up against the thinly graveled drive. 

Looking around the corner she felt her gut drop at the sight of a police car. A knee jerk reaction that’d never gone away, though it’d been years since there were any flashing lights after her in Purgatory. 

She leaned against the side of the house, arms crossed and face skeptical as a head of brilliant red hair emerged. 

Nicole’s boots were heavy as she approached, and her hands were in her back pockets in what Wynonna decided was a more casual alternative to holding her belt. 

She let a heavy sigh out through her nose. Wynonna hated cops. She really did. They sucked across every border. 

“Hey,” Nicole called out as she got closer. Wynonna responded only with a little wave. 

The sun caught Nicole’s badge in a way that agitated her, and the faint sound of handcuffs jingling made her squirmy. 

But Nicole also wore a smile. And judging by the look in those deep, admittedly sincere eyes, she truly was happy to see Wynonna. That sincerity was, she supposed, the saving grace that allowed Wynonna to learn to accept her company. Sometimes even enjoy it. 

“So…” the red head floundered a bit when she was finally in front of the older Earp. 

Today Wynonna didn’t think she could enjoy anything. Or perhaps the entire month. So she kept her poker face locked, eyeing up Nicole with no energy left to hold a conversation. 

“Sorry if it’s not a good time,” Nicole began gently. “I know you and Dolls were fighting before, but I was just…” She squinted, glancing around the property. “I know you usually don’t tell me about it, but is there something, uh, demonic going on?” 

Wynonna straightened up against the house. That was… unexpected. 

“Just… ever since Waverly, I’ve been kind of nervous. I mean if something happens to you way out here, who would know, you know?” 

Very unexpected. No one had ever gone out of their way to check on her before. Especially not in Purgatory. “No. Nope.” She shrugged. “Just a regular old storm out, not hunting revenants or anything.” 

“Oh… ok. Good.” 

“And anyway.” She cut off what she could tell would be a very awkward silence. “The property— our land—it’s uh, immune.” 

Nicole raised an eyebrow, confused but happy Wynonna was speaking to her despite her recent reclusive behavior. 

“The bedrock under the homestead, that is. It’s ammolite,” she stomped her foot a few times, “wards them off.” 

“Oh! Wow… ok, good. Great. So you’ve got like a safe house, then.” 

“Yeah.” And there was that silence. Nicole looked around again, clearly wanting to stay for reasons Wynonna couldn’t guess. 

Nobody ever really knew what to do with her, she mused, still staring at Nicole evenly. Nobody from Purgatory, anyway. Outlaws knew how to do business with her, biker gangs knew how to ride with her, tattooed randos in bars knew how to fuck her. 

But, she supposed, the average hard working Joe had a tough time relating. She had grown up with cardboard cut-outs, nodding politely in front of her and talking major shit behind her. All dressed the same, all having the same conversations, all in agreement about what was right and wrong and sane and crazy. 

But the good Officer Haught was an out of towner, and Wynonna had yet to figure out if she’d be any different. Any better. 

“So you probably don’t wanna talk about it, right? What happened at the station?” 

Wynonna shook her head slowly. 

“Uh, right…” 

She seemed like decent friend material, though the two of them hadn’t spent too much time together. But it didn’t matte. Wynonna didn’t really do friends. She was certainly better dating material for Waverly than Champ was, so at least there was that. 

“Well, I…” The red head gestured vaguely behind herself. 

She was finally giving up then, on whatever it was she wanted there. Wynonna nodded. She appreciated Nicole’s gesture, but there would always be a wall between her and the rest of the world. A wall that left her surrounded by one night stands, shallow acquaintances, and awkward silences. But it wasn’t so bad. It suited her. 

“And um... if you needed to talk, or just… want some company sometime? I know you’ve been home alone a while, and no one’s seen you much in town…” 

Maybe, Wynonna thought. A few drinks outside of her livingroom would probably be healthier. But then again, if she wasn’t alone she wouldn’t be able to be so irresponsible. And with a cop, she certainly would have to be on her best behavior. And was _that_ really drinking? 

“I mean, I’d…” Oops. She was leaving poor Haught hanging. “You’re probably not interested, I know…” 

Interested? In another shallow acquaintance? It never did hurt. But it was always a little difficult, spending time chatting and laughing with others, and never really being able to unpack her whole self. Everyone else was so normal. And she liked to think she was tougher, but honestly… well it _could_ hurt. 

When she actually liked someone and gave up that tiny bit too much of herself, only to get a weird look. An awkward silence. When she told just that little extra piece of the truth and got laughter in return, regular people too uncomfortable to do anything else. 

She let out a thoughtful sigh. “I just… I dunno, I’m not…” she tried for a smile but could feel it come out all wrong. 

“No, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have bothered you. I just thought with Waverly gone, maybe...” her eyes moved to the dark windows of the house. 

Waverly. The good Earp. She was the one without any walls. She was the one who could find company in this little town. Who could find company with any average Joe. And she deserved that. She deserved the normalcy and the… the light. The warmth of belonging. 

“Well, sorry to bother you.” And damn if she wasn’t sincere about that too. If those dark eyes didn’t look thoroughly embarrassed to have even tried. 

As the officer turned shyly away, and began her slow escape back to the squad car, Wynonna found that she couldn’t keep her eyes from rolling, and she couldn’t keep from calling out. 

“Hey.” 

Nicole turned, still obviously unsure what to do with the older woman. 

Wynonna tilted her head, motioning toward the back yard. “Come here.” 

Why did she always want to try again? Why did she always want to reach out, only to prove to herself once more that she doesn’t fit right, that she doesn’t match anybody, or belong? 

They walked around to see Wynonna’s makeshift range of targets, house hold junk propped up on barrels and crates from the barn.

“Wanna shoot?” 

///// 

They had started out standing, quiet and slow and taking turns knocking one bottle off at a time. Within minutes though it was competitive, resetting the targets constantly after speed rounds and trick shots. Nicole had started all out laughing, finding fun in the neck-and-neck struggle to keep up with the Earp heir. 

Wynonna wouldn’t turn, couldn’t turn her head to look or she might slip up and lose. But at the sound of the other woman’s happiness, she found herself grinning, even if only for a few minutes. 

At last they were tired and mostly out of targets, slid down to sit on the ground with their backs against the wall. 

“You’re _good,_ ” Nicole said, finally looking over at her silent companion. 

“You too,” she conceded. 

Things had gotten peaceful amidst the gun smoke. Maybe company had helped, Wynonna thought as the two of them holstered their guns, and Nicole set to scooping up her shells. 

“I meant it, you know,” the taller woman said, without looking and with as casual a voice as she could muster. As though she might spook the brunette away, back further into her shell. 

Wynonna sniffed, and looked up at the sky, squinting at a pair of crows overhead. But she was listening. 

“I haven’t known you long. But you just seem a little… evasive? Lately? Or maybe like something’s bothering you.” They still wouldn’t look at each other. “And I know we haven’t spoken a lot, but I liked your company when I had it.” 

Wynonna still wouldn’t answer, but looked at her from the corner of her eye. 

“And so I meant what I said, if you wanted to talk or just, I dunno, get off the homestead for a little while. Or something. Aren’t you going stir crazy up here?” 

A part of Wynonna still clamped up tight inside at any accusation of her being less than sane. “I guess.” She picked up a shell and began to draw lines in the dirt. “It’s been a while since I was stuck in one place so long. I spent years wandering around wherever I wanted. I could pack up and go whenever, not give anyone any notice.” 

Inside she was berating herself. Once she started talking she was liable to give too much away. To make a fool of herself. 

“That sounds nice,” Nicole prodded, still gentle. 

“Yeah.” 

“Lonely?” 

“…Yeah. Sometimes. I guess. But I think… worth it. For me.” _Watch your step,_ she warned herself. 

“You know, I think it’s really admirable,” Nicole admitted softly. “That you stay here. To break this curse. You don’t owe it to anybody in this town. You and Waverly could stay on the homestead nice and safe together. You could even go off wandering again, if you wanted to.” 

“I guess…” She looked down at peacemaker. “Well, no. No, I couldn’t. Waverly can’t use this thing, and I… I couldn’t leave her here. Not again. And I couldn’t take her with me, when she wanted to stay so bad.” She laughed, almost. Just a breath. But she felt the faint trace of tears heating up behind her eyes. “She loves this stupid town so much.” 

“Well, I think it makes you a good person. And a really, _really_ good sister.” 

Wynonna took a deep sobering breath, finally turning to face her guest. And she was met with complete openness, total honesty. 

So she laughed. 

“A good person, huh? You think that?” 

Nicole’s face grew serious. A little concerned. “I do,” she said cautiously. 

“And a good big sister?” She remembered Waverly’s face when she found out Wynonna was leaving. Abandoning her in Purgatory. “Do you even know…” 

“Yeah,” Nicole said, when Wynonna’s sentence never ended. 

“Well. To each his own.” And with that she stood, prompting the officer to do the same. “I appreciate the invite too, Nic, but I was planning on an evening alone, ok?” 

“Yeah, of course! It was kind of rude to just pop over anyway…” 

“Popping over happens a lot in Purgatory, actually. Just not so much here.” 

“Ok, well. The offer still stands, ok? Anytime.” 

Wynonna nodded. Walked her back to the driveway. Waved her off, and tried to be nice, polite, not too standoffish. Nicole was a sweet kid. A fresh face in a town that hated her. She should probably be careful not to burn a bridge that didn’t need burning. 

Would she call on Nicole to be her… friend? Is that what she wanted? Who knew. Maybe she would. Probably not. She was more than happy to settle for what they had—friendly enough small talk and shared office space. And of course the shared secret that the town was full of the paranormal undead. 

But Wynonna was tired. She had a curse to break, a little sister to watch out for, a special agent who knew too much and was threatening to get in her way. And she was stuck in her stupid hick home town, to boot. 

So no, she didn’t really feel up for making a friend. Not after managing so long without any. Not at the risk of… whatever it was that made her ache. So that's what she told herself. 

But late that night when she was reaching for the bottle, swamped by feelings of incompetence and regret, Nicole’s voice came to mind. Telling her she was a good person. 

Now she rejected that idea, outright. But as the night got longer and darker, she would take the thought out and examine it, turning it over carefully before putting it back, tucking it away like some little secret. 


	2. Chapter 2

“Well, I’ve never seen anything like it.” A manila folder was slapped down on the desk, already opened to the grotesque images inside. Nedley was of course doing his best to seem casual, hoisting up his pants authoritatively and nodding at the two Black Badge officers in front of him as if he wasn’t completely out of his depth. 

Wynonna leant forward, stirring her yogurt as she took in the file, pretending she didn’t feel the tension rolling off of Dolls. Peacemaker hung heavy at her side and she reminded herself that _she_ had every advantage, no matter how things felt. 

Several close up shots of a man from the neck up, face down on the ground, messy numbers and notes scribbled in blue along the edges by the coroner. Interesting. She took a spoonful of the yogurt, sucking on the spoon thoughtfully, eyeing the choppy bits of bone jutting out where the skull had been pried in half. 

“How many victims?” Dolls asked, pushing aside the photos to read the full report. All traces of grey matter gone from the skull...

“Just him…” Nedley said. “I’d like it to stay that way.” That was as close to a ‘please help us’ as she’d ever heard from him. 

The following minutes were tense while Wynonna looked over Dolls’ shoulder, wanting to read the report first, ID the revenant first, send it back to hell before Dolls had a chance to even catch up. If he managed to take even one of them alive… 

She jumped when he moved swiftly away from the desk. _Damn. He beat me._ Her eyes followed his back as he sped out of the office. 

Nedley looked worried as he glanced back to her. She ignored him and kept reading. Could working separately risk the entire town? Yes. Could working together only to lose a revenant to the BBD risk the entire town? …Yes. So clearly she had no time for Nedley’s worrying. She was already about to drown in her own. 

“Ok!” she said, finally looking up. “So this looks pretty bad.” Boy, did he look miserable. Briefly, she was sure she was about to say something positive. Reassuring. Her lips had parted after all, and in fact it looked like the sheriff was waiting on it. But nothing came out. So instead, she turned away, eyes widening at her own stupidity, and fled the room. 

So she didn’t have Dolls. The specially trained supernatural expert with access to heavy artillery. Cool. And if she called Waverly, Waverly might worry and come running back from happiness well over due. Which would probably make her an even shittier sister. _She_ was the heir after all, couldn’t she do this by herself? 

She could hear Nedley walking a ways behind her. God, even his footsteps sounded nervous. She was starting to clench her jaw. ‘I’ll handle it!’ she wanted to scream at him. But it might be a lie. 

She was bustling past the front desk when she caught sight of Nicole, twirling her pen and looking bored. 

One fire arm. 

No expertise. 

No experience. 

“Nedley!” She called down the hall, just before he disappeared into his office. He looked up somberly. “Can I commandeer one of yours?” One troubled nod was her answer. 

She turned to where Nicole had perked up and was trying not to be too obvious about eyeing her. 

“C’mon you,” she said, tilting her head toward the door. “Let’s go.” 

Nicole’s lips spread into an easy smile, and, Wynonna noted, she looked almost… proud. 

If nothing else, maybe she could make do with a friendly face. 

/////

Wynonna stayed seated on her bike, running her fingers through her now disheveled helmet hair. She listened to Nicole kill the engine of her squad car, and huffed out a sigh at the thought of letting someone into the mess she had made of her house. 

As soon as Nicole’s door popped open and the redhead swung a leg out, she was making excuses. 

“You know maybe we could work outside tonight, its nice weather.” 

Nicole looked up at the evening sky, still light but outlined by trees turned black as the sun moved behind them. 

“I have a porch light…” she tried quietly. 

“How about we try inside?” Nicole asked, her smile confused as she passed the shorter woman on her way to the porch. 

“Sure…” 

She hopped up the steps after the deputy and pushed the door open with a hard creak. The interior was dim but it didn’t take long for Nicole’s eyes to adjust. 

“I know,” she huffed as Nicole took it in. The bottles. The laundry that had piled up around her couch. The magazines, the mail. “Come on.” She grabbed for the side of Nicole’s sleeve and steered her towards the stairs. “I do have an actual room up here. It’s clean.” 

But her old room was embarrassing too, in a different way. It was hard to walk in and see the old twin bed, neatly made. The pastel colors. She felt like a fraud in her leather jacket when she saw what was left of her old toys. 

Young Wynonna was a different person. But somehow it wasn't just because she had changed. Everybody changes. Young Wynonna was an odd sort of memory, who felt more dreamlike than real. She could have been a third sister, as far as Wynonna was concerned. One who died when her father did, who she barely knew anymore. Or she could have been an imaginary friend that was never quite fleshed out. A hallucination she had on a bender once in high school. 

She sat down at her desk and the old chair groaned under her. She motioned for Nicole to sit on the trunk at the foot of the bed. There were clothes in there, she knew, that would feel like putting on someone else’s skin to wear. And would probably look as strange.

Leaning down under the desk she dragged out a hefty box, filed neatly by her little sister. Sweet little wide-eyed Waverly had combed through the gruesome details of the most blood thirsty outlaws before she left, under the correct assumption that Wynonna would wind up in over her head when it really counted. 

She looked over at Nicole then, to gauge how much she regretted agreeing to help having seen their current workload. Instead she found the redhead was looking up at the collection of knickknacks that were lined up on top of her wardrobe. 

She bit her lip, not sure what to do with her own discomfort. A part of her wanted to stop and stare as well. A part of her always wanted to test whether or not she could feel like Young Wynonna again. Happy…

But a bigger part of her wasn’t having it. “I hate it in here,” she blurted out, at a loss and frustrated. Wanting Nicole to stop looking. 

“Why?” Those big brown eyes, always so well meaning. Why? How was she supposed to answer that. She hadn’t even meant to say it. 

“It’s just lame. I outgrew this stuff a long time ago, I just never got a chance to clear it out.” 

Nicole’s stare was open and soft. She was wondering, Wynonna could tell. About her room… about the rest of her. She was wondering because the untruths in Wynonna’s voice were too clear. Because she was stiff and robotic as she rifled through the files. Because Wynonna was troubled, if the mess downstairs was any sort of giveaway. 

She pulled out a folder. Any folder. And held it primly between her fingertips, lips tight together and eyes wandering, waiting for questions. 

There was a hesitant silence. 

When she braved a glance at Nicole, light eyes glassy with stress, she could feel the other woman jump inside. Wynonna watched as her posture straightened and her eyebrows raised. As if she were nervous too. Her hand reached out and she motioned for the file. 

Like she knew. Like she cared. Like she was being careful, for some reason, with Wynonna Earp. 

/////

She flicked another folder onto the small but growing reject stack. None of these sounded remotely close to ‘skull ripper’ or ‘brain stealer.’ 

Sure, there was a pathetic pile of ‘thief,’ but none of them were promising. Bank robberies with a high casualty list could get you shot by Wyatt Earp, sure, but it was a far cry from satanic ritual. 

Disappointed she propped her chin on the back of her chair looked over at Nicole. The other woman’s brows were furrowed, her lips slightly pursed. Was she even blinking? Wynonna counted twelve seconds before she saw a blink. 

She had picked a good teammate after all. If ‘teammate’ was the right word. 

“Hey,” she said quietly, her voice rough from the long silence. 

Nicole looked up from her work like she was ready for a clue, and assignment, anything. God, this wasn’t even her real job and she was _dedicated._ Somehow Wynonna felt the corner of her mouth quirk up. 

She tried to kill the little smile as quickly as it appeared, but Nicole still saw it’s ghost. She was smiling back already, subdued, but obviously pleased to see something positive come from Wynonna. 

Wynonna bit her lip for a moment as a precautionary measure. 

“Look. I just wanted to make sure you…” She huffed. Nicole had gone back to looking at her like she was sheriff or something. And… god dammit she had to bite her lip again. “I know you know not to tell anybody about Black Badge. Or revenants, or _any_ of this.” 

Nicole nodded. “Of course. I saw that… crater.” 

So Dolls had shown her. 

“Well I’ve also gotta ask you to keep quiet about this,” she said, holding up the papers in her hand. “And I mean don’t even mention it to Dolls.” 

“Are these files from the BBD?” 

“Waverly was the one who compiled _all_ the research. As far as I’m concerned it’s Earp property and belongs here. So I cleared the office and now it’s all stuffed… well,” She gestured around the room. “Anywhere I could think of to cram it.” 

“Won’t he find it?” 

“Only if he comes looking.” 

“And… is he gonna come looking?” She wound her fingers together. Nicole was nervous, though she didn’t show it like Nedley. 

It was unfair, Wynonna knew. Unfair for everyone who understood the true danger the town was in, because they didn’t know why the two people most qualified to protect them weren’t working together. 

“I don’t know, Haught. I don’t know.” She felt the need to grab a bottle, but there wasn’t one. 

Nicole had gone back to looking down, but she wasn’t reading. Her fingers skimmed the edges of the pages. 

“If you’re wondering how to ask, don’t.” 

Silence. Wynonna detected the hint of disappointment. 

“…’Cause I’ll just tell you, ok? But it’s one more thing you’ve gotta keep to yourself.” 

Silence. And definitely satisfaction. How did she get here, talking about her personal life with a cop in her old bedroom? 

“Black Badge… wanted Bobo. They had him, actually, when they were taking Dolls in. Thing is… I shot him. It was a good shot, too.” 

And how exactly was _this_ now her personal life? 

_”But…”_ Now they want a replacement. In fact, they might want a lot of replacements. To… study, I don’t know. Thing is, I shot Bobo out of pity. Don’t know why. It should have been for my own sake, for the curse, but he had crossed over the line…” 

Out of the corner of her eye, she could tell Nicole was eyeing her in some kind of way. With a sort of… respect? Appreciation? Good god… admiration? Couldn’t be. But whatever it was, it was uncomfortable. 

“Well _anyway_ I don’t trust them. And you know if I can’t kill all these revenants the curse isn’t ever gonna break, so I just can’t risk somebody taking them away. No matter what promises they make. Hell, they could even decide they wanna study the curse. I might wind up a lab rat, myself.” It was a stretch, but Nicole was appalled at the idea. Funny how a cop could be so innocent. "But probably not though, don't worry." 

“But you think Dolls might… be compromised? Bugged? Maybe he wouldn’t help them—” 

“He _wants_ to catch them. To study them. He told me so himself, and besides, he’s done it before without even letting me know. I didn't mind then, but now... God, I just met the guy, I dunno why I trusted him so fast.” 

“You still have your badge though…” 

She slid her fingers over the metal of it. “Yeah, I know. He still thinks he can convince me. Still thinks we can be, I dunno I guess friends, if that’s something he does. Even after…” She took a deep breath. Willa. Why _wasn’t_ there a bottle? 

“Well… I’ll do what I can to help _you,_ Wynonna.” 

“Me, huh?” 

“Mmhmm.” 

“Out of the two of us, I’m your pick?” 

“That’s right.” 

“’Causa the gun, right?” 

“Nope.” 

Wynonna cocked her head to the side, leveling Nicole with a look of disbelieving amusement. 

Nicole looked back at her evenly, eyebrows raised expectantly. 

“You gonna tell me why?” 

“Well, you’re picking yourself, aren’t you?” 

True. 

“You know I’ve never been much of a winner.” 

“Now, that’s not true. Not since I’ve known you.” 

“I’ve been doing alright, but…” 

“You’re gonna do what’s right for this town. And for your family. And you’re friends, if that’s something you do.” 

_Well._ “That’s pretty high praise coming from someone who barely knows me.” 

Nicole’s cheeks reddened just a tint, and she let out a breathy laugh. Embarrassed. 

Wynonna almost felt a little guilty. This was, after all, the only person willing to help her right now. Probably shouldn't pick on her.

“Wynonna Earp…” And then Nicole was all confidence, eyes boring into hers and voice firm. “Wynonna Earp, you’ll do the right thing.” 

Well that… made her feel something. Someone was putting their faith in her. To hear someone talk like that… to hear someone say her name like that, it made her feel funny. And now she was the one embarrassed. 

But at least Nicole was merciful. “What’s this,” she asked, effectively changing the subject. She reached for the small black notebook, which had been tossed carelessly in the box. 

“That’s…” Wynonna watched as the redhead flipped through the first few pages, the only ones filled out. “That’s mine. I’ve decided to uh, log the revenants. You know, who they are… who they were. What they can do. I’m filling it out as I take them down. It’s just something I wished someone in my family would have passed down to me.” 

“You know, you’re actually a lot like Waverly.” She pointedly ignored Wynonna’s rolling eyes. “Does she know you’re doing this? She’d be totally into it.” 

“I haven’t. Maybe when she gets back. I shouldn’t be bugging her with revenant stuff while she’s on her little vacation.” 

Nicole sat back. “Yeah, uh… has she been alright? I haven’t heard much from her the last few days.” Light tone. Casual wording. Still, a worried line between her brows. 

“Um, yeah. But I’m not very chatty over the phone, so… we don’t talk that much either. While she’s out there.” 

“Right… I just wanted to make sure. Cause it’s just. I mean she was talking to me a lot when she first left, and it’s been… less.” There may have been more she wanted to say, but she swallowed it with an uncomfortable gulp. 

_Oh boy._ “Well I’m not really the best person to ask, I mean. I’ve been trying to do right by her since I got back, but well, I’m still kind of oblivious, right? I mean I didn’t really notice when you two were… getting together. Or whatever you wanna call it.” How awkward. She had never been good at comforting or easing worry. 

“I’m sure she’s fine, though.” _But I’m also pretty sure you’re worried about a little more than that._ “I mean she’s Waverly, right?” 

“Right. Sorry if I’m annoying you, I was just curious.” 

“No, not annoying.” Where the hell was that bottle? “Just, you know, I don’t really know Waverly as well as I should. I never did, actually, even though… I love her. I didn’t grow up with her the way I was supposed to. It made me kind of a shit sister.” 

“But that wasn’t your fault…!” 

Well that got Wynonna’s attention. Even though the other woman looked hesitant to go on, her voice had been filled with care. And no one spoke to Wynonna that way. Ever. It left her feeling that same kind of funny again. 

“I’m sorry if this is out of line, but… Waverly told me a little bit about, well, how you two… grew up…” 

“About how I was locked up?” 

Nicole nodded, doleful, clearly hoping she wasn’t stepping out of bounds. 

“About my time in Juvie, too?” 

“Yes. Just a little bit about it all.” 

“Well, I guess I’m not exactly hiding it.” 

“It wasn’t fair to you, Wynonna, I know.” 

Her throat was getting tight. When was the last time she had talked to someone like this? She couldn’t remember. Had she ever gone this long without turning herself into a joke? 

“So I don’t see how you can blame yourself. The odds were stacked so high against you. This town was stacked against you, I don’t see… you can’t blame yourself.” 

Oh, this was not good. Her eyes were burning. If she wasn’t careful she was gonna tear up, and what the hell was that all about? Maybe this was too much, just too much human interaction after so much time being a recluse. 

“Sorry…” Nicole murmured. She was being careful now. Careful not to spook the stray. “If I’m annoying you now.” 

“No…” Almost a whisper. “Not annoying.” She cleared her throat. “But we’ve spent a hell of a lot of time with these files and haven’t gotten anywhere. Any ideas?” 

Photographs and notes were spread out across the floor, and the hours ticked by until Wynonna herself was passed out on the floor. Nicole had just enough left in her to turn the light out before falling into sleep as well. 

/////

It wasn’t unusual for Wynonna to wake up on the floor in the middle of the night. But it always brought on a sort of grim ambient feeling. She liked to tell herself that breaking the curse would mean a chance to get her life together. But she wondered if that wasn’t just a wildly unique way of procrastinating. 

There was also a pervading sense of loneliness, she observed, as she reached out for whatever bottle had sent her to the ground. It felt like she was the only one awake in the world. And it reminded her that she was the only one who knew how bad she had gotten. 

Where was that bottle? With a slight huff she propped herself up on her elbows. There was no bottle. _Oh, shit, that’s right._

Looking over, she found one Deputy Nicole Haught, curled up on the floor just a few feet away. Wynonna ran her teeth over her lip. She had stayed. Perhaps the only one awake in the world, but somehow, tonight, she wasn’t completely alone. 

Her throat clenched roughly. And there they were, the tears from before, that she couldn’t explain. What on earth was happening to her? She never cried. Scraped knees as a kid, black eyes as a teen, and here she was, finally crying just at the feeling of not being absolutely alone. But she really could feel it. The room was different with another body laying close to hers. 

Fucking pathetic. 

Best just to lay down, she decided. Best just to sleep it off. 

/////

When she woke up next the sun was up. Hitting her in the face, really. She sat up and utterly ignored the disappointment she felt at seeing Nicole’s spot on the floor vacant. 

There was a note, anyway, where she had been sitting on the trunk. 

_Had to get to work. Sorry we couldn’t figure it out—but you fell asleep first! If you want to try again, just let me know. You have my word I’ll keep it a secret._

She fell asleep first? What a light weight. 

Going down stairs she felt compelled to eat a breakfast made of actual food. She would take her progress where she could get it. 

With bread in the toaster she sat heavily at the kitchen table, an odd sense that there was something she needed to do. Something she was forgetting… 

Revenant research was hidden again. She would go in later to snoop on Dolls. She would absolutely make Nicole come back and help her… 

“No way…” _Is that what’s bothering me?_

She picked up her phone, and rolled it around in her hand a few times. Was she really going to do this? 

“Ohhhhh god, what’s happening to me?” She sighed wearily and opened the chat. 

: Hey, I know we usually don’t text in the morning, but I didn’t hear from you last night. : 

There was a songbird outside and the smell of bread cooking and she waited. Waverly was probably still asleep, and she didn’t need to rush into making a fool of herself did she? 

: Anyway, good news. Nicole’s helping me sort through the box of demon shit you left. : 

Was there a tactful way to do this? How do you ask ‘is your relationship ok?’ 

: She was a little worried about you too. Don’t keep forgetting to text us, we worry. You’re little. : 

_Well… let’s see if she brings it up herself._ The toaster binged behind her, the final product only a little burnt around the edges.

_Maybe it’s nothing._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My job is killing me and I haven't written in a long while, so I feel like I'm still a bit rusty. This chapter was honestly like pulling teeth, and I'm sorry if it's a little rough (I edited it as well as I could.)  
> I hope you'll be willing to stick with me cause I think once I get a better feel for the story I'm really going to be able to put a lot into it.


	3. Chapter 3

With the gun she had cleverly made out of her thumb and forefinger, she made eleven successful headshots, hitting each of the suspects’ profiles lying on her bedroom floor. It had been hours, and what did she have to show for it? Guesses. Maybe more educated guesses than she had before. But certainly no prime suspect. Certainly no plan. 

Maybe Nicole was good with plans. She was probably good at investigating too. But that was of course why she had a day job already. So where was she right now? Out looking for a collarless dog spotted by Oak, behaving erratically. Possibly rabid. 

So Wynonna was stranded in that room, out of ideas. Around lunch she had gone down to the kitchen, avoided booze like a good detective. Though she was a bad one. She had eyed her bike and thought about checking out the scene of the crime. She strummed her fingertips against the glass of the window and thought about standing there, in the middle of some guy’s house. Anything out of place? How the hell should she know? Anything suspicious? What the fuck did that even mean? Was she gonna analyze anything like on some crime documentary? No. She wasn’t. 

Dolls could have done that. Hell, that was probably the first thing he did. He might’ve pulled a dozen ideas from the thin air between those walls. But there was nothing there for her. 

It would be a waste of time, she thought. And if she came to any conclusion at all it would be the wrong one. So she sat in her room wasting time, coming up with nothing at all instead. And she was starting to get antsy. 

“I’m not Nicole,” she complained to her ceiling, sprawled out on her back. It was almost a whimper. “I’m not Dolls.” That time she whispered, hoping she wouldn’t sound like as much of a wuss. 

She pulled out her phone and flipped it around between her fingers a few times. When she opened the text box it still said

: Sorry! It’s so much fun out here— I’m starting to forget about little old Purgatory =) : 

: But I miss you guys!! We’ll talk soon! :

She tilted her head back against the floor, looking up out the window behind her where the clouds were rolling quick around the afternoon sun. She watched for a while as thunder picked up in the distance, and let her fingers trace the edge of her phone. The screen fell black, and the battery was dying, and in her heart she knew that either way she wasn’t going to make that call. 

Heaving herself roughly to her feet, she left the quiet little room, unable to tolerate her own impatience anymore. 

Outside the air was charged. Sunlight still shone heavily through the rippling clouds, and shadows crawled across the fields, paled by the early autumn. In the almost storm, everything was faintly golden. Wynonna saw nothing but beauty in Purgatory. To step out onto her porch, alone in the peace the homestead afforded her, made her heart ache. And no matter how far she had ever run, she couldn’t erase this place from herself. Not for a single day. 

Boots heavy in the dirt, she could feel it pulse in her blood. This was her home. 

The leaves hissed as they were blown together and songbirds flit between the trees and the shrubs and she felt all of it resonating inside of her. This was her home, and her land, and no matter what anyone thought of her it was the truth and it would not change. She felt the grass crinkle under her feet as she made her way to her bike. Her trusty steed. 

She was going to defend this place and it wasn’t going to be as Nicole. It wasn’t going to be as Dolls. 

She was going to have to do it as Wynonna, and there was no other way. 

Whether it worked or not. 

/////

Gus let her have the truck. She didn’t know of course, that it was being borrowed because it blended in. Or that it was being used for hunting revenants. Sweet old Gus thought that it was because of the rain. But it’s not like that was a lie, right? 

The drops pelted hard at the window while Wynonna sat, parked behind the library tucking in to a greasy burger and some poorly seasoned fries. 

The rain would stop within a few hours, and the sun would be setting soon enough. And then what would happen? Well then, of course, there would be drug deals on the streets. There would be kids sneaking out to fuck in semi-public places. There would be vandalism and perhaps petty theft. All in one night? No. But something was gonna happen somewhere and Wynonna knew all the spots. 

Or at least she hoped she did. It had been a while. 

But this was a Wynonna style investigation. And that meant winging it completely. 

“C’mon, asshole,” she growled around a mouthful of cheap beef byproduct. “Plenty of brains for you rip out in the dark.” 

/////

“Officer Haught is out settling a private disturbance,” some smug dick said. “And Miss Earp, this line isn’t meant for social calls. If you need the help of this department we can send someone who isn’t busy out to you.” 

“Is Nedley there?” 

“No, Miss Earp.” Patronizing little rat.

“Well next time you see him you tell him Wynonna was looking for his Deputy and you refused to pull her away from a hick brawl.” 

“I’m—”

She ended the call. “Gonna be screamed at is what you are,” she sulked, looking around the empty streets. Night had finally fallen. 

“Ok. So if I was gonna find someone to murder… it’s the lusty teens screwing around, right?”

She hopped out of the truck. The rain had stopped and the still air left nothing but absolute silence. 

_But maybe that’s just in horror movies_ she thought as she locked the door manually, trying to avoid being heard. 

There were hardly any lights in this town at night. Everything was closed by dinner time, after all, save Shorty’s. So she looked mostly at the ground, listening to the ink black quiet for so much as a scuffle. 

She made her way to the alley behind the theatre. Nothing. Hell there weren’t even any cigarette butts on the ground. Where were kids getting their hooch these days, then? She slid down with her back to the wall and peered out into the street, hoping anything would move. 

How many years ago had she sat like this, blowing all her money on a fuzzy stupor and throwing away her education? She could almost feel the echo of that dumb, raw kid. Throwing _herself_ away is what she was doing. In front of the whole town.

And now look at her. Playing at heroics. She stood up and doubled back. Time to check the park. 

No red eyes watching her from the shadows. No monsters grabbing her from behind. But even stranger, there was no faint smell of weed wafting around by the pond. There was no muffled laughter from the bushes or cars parked off in the distance for some privacy. 

Were today’s kids just better than she used to be? She would have been at that pond, she would have been half out of her mind, at least making out by those trees. 

She walked all the way through and came out with zip on the other side. No revenants, no victims, not even a panicked scream from anywhere. 

_Backyards it is._ So moon high, she took up pacing residential streets. Trotting through the yards of more secluded houses, she found herself peeking into front windows and checking the latches on garage doors. 

And then she was in a headlock. 

She was supposed to throw an elbow to the solar plexus, she knew, but in the time it took to get her arm into position she was grappled to the ground. 

“Oh sh—hey,” she heard above her. 

She turned her head in the damp grass, sending the coldest stare she could muster over her shoulder. 

“Got a call about… trespassing.”

“Did you, now?” 

“Yeah. You ok?” 

“You’re not so tough.” 

Nicole tried not to smirk to herself as Wynona heaved herself up, brushing soggy lawn off of her clothes. “You freaked a few people out, you know.”

“Well they already hate me so they might as well, you know, catch me doing this.” At the nod of Nicole’s head, they started off back to the cruiser. 

“Oh, they don’t know it’s you. They think you’re a man, actually.”

“A man?” 

“When people are scared, they perceive threats as larger than they are. They said—” Nicole’s smile fell. “They said…” She stopped to look Wynonna over for a minute. “No there’s no way,” she murmured to herself. 

Wynonna looked at her anxiously, trying to tamper down her suspicions. “Nicole…?”

“There’s no way anyone mistook you for… over six feet.”

“Six?” 

“And broad shouldered.” 

They spent a moment making panicked eye contact before they scurried for cover, abandoning Nicole’s conspicuous Crown Vic for a small thicket of trees a ways off the road. 

“So we’re thinking he’s out here, right? Where’d your last caller say he was?” 

“ _Right here,_ Wynonna.”

They each looked down opposite ends of the street, squinting through the darkness as best they could, but ultimately seeing nothing. 

“So, you’ve got this thing figured out? What are we up against?” Nicole was looking at her with a stern admiration, like she was ready for orders. Like she was waiting to follow her into battle. 

“…Why would you think I have a handle on this? I’m hiding in the same foliage as you.” 

“Didn’t you track him here or something?” 

“No, I’m…” A nearby shrub rustled in the wind, and Nicole snapped her gun to it, poised to shoot while the Earp heir fumbled with her own gun. By the time peacemaker was leveled, Nicole had already assessed the situation and lowered her’s back to her hip. “...Not that good at this.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“I winged it, Haught. I read through all of Waverly’s notes— more than once, I might add, and came away with nada.”

“So what lead you here?” 

“ _Nothing,_ that’s what I’m trying to tell you. I decided to lurk around in the dark, and hoped I’d find a revhead doing the same. I even hit up the most lurkable spots, and still didn’t find him. This neighborhood patrol was just a last call sort of thing.” 

Nicole looked away from her, now scanning the windows of nearby houses as best she could. A silence fell over the pair as Wynonna followed her lead and attempted to do the same. 

“Let’s move,” Nicole whispered. “We can’t stay stationary like this.” 

As they set off down the road, Wynonna let her mind wander to the previous Earp heirs. How had they done things? Ol’ one year had worked with the BBD too, but he still hadn’t broken the curse. Could it be done alone? Her father had allied with Bobo… 

They cleared house after house as best they could, while Wynonna was left quietly hoping that she wasn’t the only Earp who didn’t even know where to start. Who couldn’t make it work with the good guys or the bad guys. Who needed a rookie flat foot to guide her down a familiar road in her own home town. 

“Alright,” came Nicole’s whisper from a few steps ahead of her. “That’s the whole street.” 

She thought to the mostly blank journal she had tucked away in her room. She would be sure to fill it with tips, if she ever learned what the fuck she was doing. What she wouldn’t give to have been handed a sheet of instructions. 

_So You’re the New Heir: A List of How-Tos._ She rolled her eyes at herself. 

They crossed through another yard on the way back to Nicole’s ride, the image of a man having his neck snapped flitting briefly through her peripheral vision.

She couldn’t just write “dumb luck” in the journal, could she? Dragging Nicole to the ground by her arm, she gestured wildly at the figure moving slowly off toward the woods. Glancing through the window as they passed, they saw the corpse, head severed and left feet away from his body, hollowed. 

Nicole looked a bit pale, but followed regardless. 

Wynonna wrapped her hand around peacemaker, the shadow in the distance easy to train her eyes on. He hadn’t seen them. 

“You should probably… go.” Wynonna said softly, hoping her target didn’t have some bullshit like super hearing. 

“What? You’ve got to be joking, after all that.” 

“And I appreciate ‘all that,’ but we don’t know what this thing can do. My gun’s a ringer, Haughty, but yours might do zip.”

“So what, just because of your gun you think you don’t need any backup?”

“I… definitely don’t think that.”

They followed him for a distance, the scattered houses shrinking behind them, and Wynonna’s head swimming with images of Nicole’s skull cracked open, Nicole’s brain ripped out, Nicole’s corpse being dropped with a thud to the ground. 

And behind her, Nicole’s very real footsteps followed steadily after her. 

“It’s just that _I’m_ not the backup that _you_ would probably need.” She said after a little while, wondering how she might be able to dissuade the redhead. 

“Then _you_ definitely need _me_ ” 

_Great._

“What would Waverly do if she came home to a decapitated girlfriend, huh? She’d be lost. Heartbroken. Hasn’t she gone through enough in her life? You’re supposed to be the steady, normal thing.” Surely _that_ would work. She was even being honest.

“What would Waverly do if she came home to a brainless sister?” Nicole snarked behind her. Wynonna was actually taken aback. “I mean I’m sure she’s used to it, but this would still be tough!” 

Ok, so she didn’t know Nicole as well as she thought. 

“Look.” The younger woman pointed off through the trees, where they could just make out a small wooden house. They tucked themselves behind a fallen log, and watched as the hulking revenant pulled the old door open with a creak loud enough to make them jump. 

“Nicole.” Wynonna said firmly. “I’ve never done this successfully by myself.” 

“Good thing you’re not by yourself, huh?” 

_Greeeaat._

The night sky was getting lighter, but they still had the cover of darkness as they crept to the little one story, looking for any alternatives to the obscenely loud front door. 

“Fine, then. You’re helping. What did cop school teach you about situations like these?” 

“Well… with just two of us? And no way to be sneaky? Or surround the house? And… there’s a demon in there?”

Wynonna raised her eyebrows expectantly. 

“I guess… um, we could try to shoot at him through the windows. Before he even knows we’re here.” 

“I love it. Let’s go.” 

But the curtains were drawn over every panel, and they found themselves circling dejectedly back to the front. 

“Um…” Nicole looked frantically around, even glancing at the small chimney. 

“Alright,” Wynonna huffed, standing tall and striding to the door. “Buckle up, Haughtstuff.” Doing things her way had gotten them here, and as long as she told herself that that was a success and not the beginning of their untimely deaths, she could do this. 

Gun drawn, Wynonna gave the flimsy old wood the swiftest kick she could muster, cracking the doorframe and sending splintered bits flying inside. 

“It wasn’t locked,” she heard as the duo charged inside.

Standing by a dying fire, was the closest thing to a giant Wynonna had ever come across. “More like seven feet,” she muttered, hoping Nicole could hear her displeasure. 

Worn, dusty clothes, stained with layers of dried blood. The look of someone who had never worked out, but instead could naturally punch you through a wall. His hair was wild, and the grey matter and Mason jar he held in his hands gleamed in the firelight. 

“Hi.” She said. 

“Hello.” He looked at her plainly and turned back to his work, sliding the organ into its container. 

She took in his heavy brow and the listlessness of his eyes, and immediately felt cheated. He wasn’t in a single document that Waverly had accrued. 

“Uh, hey, who _are_ you? Exactly?” 

He turned to the pair of them now, arms stiff at his side. “I’m Davey.” 

“Ok… Davey who?” 

He smiled then, suppressing a laugh. “You’re an Earp.”

“And you’re a…” 

“A Whalen.” 

_Whalen Whalen Whalen._ The image of a very different man popped into her head, who had in fact been in the “thieves” category.

“And… you… steal?” 

He smiled again. “You don’t know? I’m the getaway man. For Pops.” 

“Right, of course. And where’s your Pops?”

His face darkened, eyes hardening immediately. “Why do you wanna know?” 

She held up her hands. “I’m… writing a book.” 

Behind her she felt Nicole shifting, and she could only hope the deputy would stay behind Peacemaker. 

“I haven’t seen Papa in a long long time. Not since Wyatt Earp shot me.” 

“Your dad, he… escaped?” 

He bit his lip and turned away, running his hand and along the short row of jarred brains across his mantle piece. 

“…You miss him?” 

“ _NO!_ ” he picked up one of the jars and hurled it across the room, shattering it completely. In the commotion, Wynonna heard Nicole take a few steps to her left. Was she trying to get them to flank him? 

“Dull! That’s what he thinks I am. Simple!” In his tantrum he blindly threw another jar, this time just past Nicole. And that’s when he noticed her advance. “And I bet you think so too! Trying to sneak up on me!” 

He charged with a speed and fluidity neither woman expected, grabbing Nicole easily by her shoulders and lifting her clean off the ground.

His eyes met the heir’s as Peacemaker glowed between them, and he hurled the redhead towards the fireplace, her head cracking sickeningly against the mantle. 

As her stomach plummeted she missed her shot, and found her arm caught in a vice grip, the bones of her wrist popping as she struggled against the pressure. 

“That’s what they all thought.” He said, looking her calmly, nodding towards the brains. 

“So you… you took their… you made them stupid? Is that what you did?” 

He smiled again, clearly pleased with himself. 

And she was at a loss. Peacemaker was fully charged, humming impatiently in her hand, mere inches away from the revhead’s neck. 

“You tried to kill me like your granddaddy.” 

“My…” _Wait don’t correct him._ “Yup. Sorry.”

“You’re not sorry. But if I take your shooting hand you will be.” 

“Well that’s true, but you… you know what would make me sorrier?” 

He looked at her curiously. _Yes, you big dumb idiot._ “If you took my gun. Then I’ll never be able to shoot any of you guys again, right? No Earp will. 

He laughed. “I do like that.” 

Before he could wrap his hands around the gun, he was staggering to the side, his huge form careening down to the ground. In front of her stood Nicole, brandishing a fire poker and _wow_ a lot of blood dripping down the side of her face. 

Wynonna put him down before he could rise, and for a moment it looked like the fire had roared back to life. 

“You alright?” she asked, still trying to wrap her head around the fact that she had almost lost someone. She had really almost lost someone. A friend… or whatever Nicole was. 

The redhead was swaying slightly, her eyes trained on the spot on the floor where hell had just opened up in front of her. 

“Yeah, you… you get used to it,” Wynonna said. 

The tremble in her voice seemed to snap Nicole out of it. “I’m fine…” she said, taking in Wynonna’s guilt ridden expression. The brunette was terribly shook up. “Are _you_ alright?” 

“Of course… I’ve seen it all before. The gun, the…” she glanced at the soot stains. I’m just glad you got back up, you know?”

Fearful blue eyes traced the blood trailing down Nicole’s neck with no subtlety.

“It’s not too bad. It’s coming from a cut along my scalp.” Wynonna didn’t look any more confident. “I promise. My skull’s still whole.” 

“Yeah…” 

“C’mon Earp, we’ve got a bit of a hike ahead of us.” 

/////

“You know how you said you weren’t good at this?” 

The two sat in Nicole’s squad car, parked in the driveway of the Earp homestead. Wynonna looked quietly out the window at her front door. 

“Well… I think that’s wrong.” 

In the reflection of the glass she saw Wynonna’s lips tighten, though she didn’t answer. 

“Seeing as you had no evidence, you really did the best you could do. And it worked.”

“You’re not allowed to help me anymore.” 

Nicole chose to ignore that. “He wasn’t even logged in your research, so it’s not like you failed to identify him either.”

“…It’s too dangerous, and I play it too loose, and it’s best if I work on my own.” 

“In the end you were going to beat him too, weren’t you? They can’t touch your gun, can they?”

Finally Wynonna turned to her, eyes hot and glassy. “And I was serious before. Waverly can’t come home to a dead girlfriend.” 

“Besides, I’m the one who moved in at the wrong time. It’s not your fault he got me.” 

They stared at each other in the fresh morning light, the bags under their eyes vivid and their faces tired and pale. 

“It was nice working with you, thanks for the assist, Haught.” She turned away, smothering anything else she might say, and fumbled harshly with the door to get it open. 

“I meant what I said too, Wynonna!” Nicole called out the door while it was still open. After it popped shut, she rolled down her window. “You can’t get hurt either!” She yelled at the older woman’s back. “And not because of Waverly… Just because of you! Ok?” 

The front door swung shut. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow I didn't think I'd get back to this one


End file.
